


Everyone But Karkat

by godtiermeme



Series: Maturing Crab Apples [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Humanstuck, M/M, albino!Karkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godtiermeme/pseuds/godtiermeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the idea that Sburb was a video game. The story occurs with the kids (and human trolls) now grown adults. This may or may not turn into more than a one-shot. I'm really not sure. It's my first fic, please don't murder me. Notes are at the bottom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John: Be Nostalgic

Your name is John Egbert. You’re currently twenty five years old, and you’ve finally decided to clean out that damned room of yours. In fact, you’ve been working at that for several weeks now. Today, you’ve decided to begin the hardest part of the process: throwing out all that shit from your childhood. As you sift through the pile of crap torn from the walls, scraped from the drawers, and retrieved from beneath every piece of furniture possible, you find something you’d nearly forgotten about. And, by forgotten about, you mean “blocked out of your mind and tried to completely ignore”… You find your old computer.  
As you turn it about and examine it, you begin to wonder exactly what the hell you ever liked about this thing. Sure, it had Bill Cosby’s face on it, but it was pretty ugly otherwise. Although that could be because of the peeling paint on the front and several missing keys. You wonder if it still works. Maybe if you just stick the batter pack back on the right way and…  
  
The laptop lights up and begins to slowly load. “Resuming session” blinks across the screen for several seconds before disappearing to show the loading page. After what seems like an eternity, it finally allows you to access the main screen. There, you find something which brings back both fond and not-so-fond (and admittedly pretty damned terrible, as well) memories: SBURB. What interested you, however, was the sudden appearance of a flashing PesterChum section in your taskbar. Surely, you thought, all of your former friends had long since “outgrown” their days of SBURB and PesterChum as you had.  
Click. The main PesterChum window pops up. “carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering ghostlyTrickster [GT]” the main window’s text baffles you. What baffles you even more is the fact that the window soon begins flashing again.  
  
CG: WELL IT’S ABOUT FUCKING *TIME* YOU ASSHAT.  
  
You stare at the screen for several minutes, trying to process through your mostly-adult brain what was happening. As far as you knew, all of your other friends had quit the game – and PesterChum -- years ago. Dave, Rose, Jade, Gamzee, and all those other people with freakish names had all supposedly left. Thus, if that assumption was true, then that would mean that Karkat was probably the last one to still even use PesterChum. You decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, however, and say that he wasn’t still playing that juvenile game… at least until you asked him…  
  
Your fingers slowly begin pecking out your reply. It’s been forever since you’ve used this Cosby-covered laptop, and you can’t quite get used to the smaller keyboard again. After all, you switched to a much classier and larger computer six years ago… or was it nine? Before you could figure that out, you find yourself pressing enter. A soft ding echoes through the barren room as your blue text pops up in reply to Karkat.  
  
GT: and by that you meeeeeeean…???????  
  
You have little time to relax between your reply and his. The familiar grey text jumps onto the screen faster than Dave could probably think of some rad tunes.  
  
CG: I MEAN WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? WHERE THE HELL HAS ANYONE BEEN?  
GT: everyone left forever ago, dude. i think you’re the last one left.  
CG: WELL THAT’S JUST FUCKING AMAZING.  
CG: SO YOU ALL LEFT ME HERE.  
CG: ALONE.  
CG: AND JUST WENT ON LIKE NOTHING EVER HAPPENED!?  
GT: we have our own lives to attend to…  
GT: don’t you have anything to do?  
GT: a job or something?  
GT: i mean, last time i checked, you got a job at walmart.  
CG: WELL LAST TIME YOU CHECKED WAS SEVEN FUCKING YEARS AGO.  
  
While you were kind of disturbed at the fact that Karkat had somehow been in the game at least three years after everyone had abandoned it, you had to take a moment to appreciate this new tidbit of information. You’d nearly forgotten that it was over seven years since you’d last touched SBURB. And, thus, over seven years without touching the Crosbytop. You began to think nostalgically about all those fun virtual adventures you’d had; of all the chats and pesterlogs; the laughs and the thrills. Another ding from Crosby, however, sent you hurtling back into the not-as-fantastical present.  
  
CG: FUCKING DAMMIT. DON’T SAY YOU JUST WENT IDLE AFTER ALL THIS.  
CG: I THOUGHT I WAS FINALLY GETTING SOMEONE TO TALK TO.  
CG: I WAS SAYING THAT I GOT FIRED FROM THAT JOB THE DAY YOU QUIT SBURB.  
CG: AND I TRIED TO TELL YOU, BUT YOU WOULDN’T ANSWER.  
GT: please don’t say you’re still playing this game…  
CG: WHY THE FUCK AREN’T YOU!?  
  
Your jaw drops open as you wipe your glasses off to make sure you’re not seeing something wrong. He was still at it. After all this time, he was still playing the game.  
  
GT: hold on.  
GT: i need to go…  
GT: talk to someone  
  
Before he had a chance to answer, you slam your laptop closed so hard that you swore you could actually hear the image of Bill on the front weeping. You ignored the imaginary pained whimpers of the laptop, however and rise slowly to your feet. From there, you wander to the window and stare blankly at the really fugly pastel pink house across the street from yours.  
  
As you stand there, your mind begins to process the information it had just been fed. You come to the unnerving revelation that everyone – even you, the once carefree teen who believed in tales of unconditional love and sparkling friendship rainbows of joy (okay… maybe they didn’t sparkle…) – had grown up. Everyone had moved on with their lives and begun a new chapter. Everyone, that was, except for Karkat.  
  
For some time you stand at the window and think about these facts. You also think about how much you want to set that damned pink house across from yours on fire. The owners were even worse than the house itself, actually. Those old noisy pricks never did anything except have freaky old people parties that lasted well into the night. Sure, they might not like your music. But you sure as hell don’t like those shitty old records they blast into the wee hours of the morning. And that stupid cat of theirs. That shitty little feline that always left its crap in your doorway or – Wait a moment…  
  
You finally remember what you’d been originally thinking about. You sprint back to your laptop and fling it open with force ample enough to cause the Cosby-shaped screen to emit a loud crack as it flies back. As soon as the slow piece of crap loads, you’re frantically checking your messages.  
  
CG: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?  
CG: DAMMIT. NOT AGAIN. YOU LITTLE FUCKER.  
CG: FUCK YOU.  
CG: AND FUCK YOUR STUPID JOB.  
  
That last line was the final straw for you. Although you’d never really been as great of buds with Karkat as you had with Dave (because you and Dave were just tighter than the tightest pair of skinny jeans in the universe), you still felt a need to help him. You may have outgrown that once-trademark whimsical way of Egbert thinking. But you still hadn’t forgotten your loyalty – albeit small and possibly not even worth mentioning – to the people you had spent so long playing with on SBURB.  
  
GT: you really need help.  
GT: and, seeing as you’re obviously not doing anything to help this…  
GT: i’ll be visiting soon.  
CG: WAIT. I NEVER SAID I WANTED THAT.  
CG: WHAT ARE YOU DOING, FUCKASS!?  
GT: just shut up and get a bedroom ready for me.  
  
You send the final message and shut the computer down before determinedly marching to your junky old car. As you turned the keys in the ignition, you began to think once more. You thought of how, no matter how much you acted as if you couldn’t stand Karkrab in the past, you never failed to notice his emotive red eyes on those few occassions when you saw him. You never forgot the feel of his pure white hair and the way his face lit up when he smiled. And you recall the way it felt when you sent him that final message and how empty you felt inside. However, you also remember how you and pretty much everyone else had moved on. Everyone, of course, except Karkat.


	2. John: Attempt to find edible food in vending machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave joins in on the trip to Karkrab's. And John fails to get anything worth eating from a vending machine in a public rest stop. (This is just the most exciting description ever! ...That was sarcastic...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to format phone texts like Pesterlogs. They're not in the exact same format, but they'll have the same colours and everything. Yeah. Bonus fun (read: not all that interesting) fact about the author at the bottom!

At least you’re out of that dodgy public restroom. You rummage through your pockets and pull out a handfull of spare change (along with a few paperclips and some candy wrappers). You clutch the change and junk in your hand, determined not to drop your last dime or nickel as you begin to scan the rows of the vending machine. Oreos? No… not the right day. You just weren’t in the mood for Doritos. And you sure as hell weren’t getting that suspicious partially-opened packet of crackers. If you weren’t in public, you’d most likely be hanging your head in defeat. You shove the change back into your pocket and wander back to wherever the fuck you parked your car. Perhaps the next rest stop would have a better selection…

As you finally get back into your admittedly crappy old car, your phone spews forth the noise indicative of a new text. You grab the phone from its place on your belt and try and guess who it was contacting you. For some reason, you were really confident that it was Dave. You were so confident that, if you were wrong about this one, you’d punch yourself in the face. Luckily for you, your guess was correct.

oh god i am so fucking bored there is nothing to do in this place

You can’t help but smirk at his reply. Typical Dave, you think to yourself. Your fingers fly across the phone’s keyboard.

didn’t you just get a new job as a dj at a new radio station?  
i did but it got boring so do you happen to be doing anything interesting now

A sigh escapes from your lips as you type another reply. You knew what he wanted, and you weren’t exactly surprised. Sure, Dave had matured quite a bit since he’d finished his time with SBURB. But when it came down to it, he was still mostly the same Dave you’d always known.

i’m going to karkat’s. before you ask – and i know you’re going to ask – you can come with me. i’ll be there in a bit.

You hit send and enter Dave’s address into your phone. Your eye darts to the approximate arrival time: twenty minutes. You send this rough estimate to Dave before your car sputters into life and you return to the highway…

You arrive at Dave’s house twenty five minutes later. Not surprisingly, Dave is already outside of the front door and bouncing from foot to foot. You could tell he was making no effor to suppress his excitement this time. 

The moment you stop the car, he’s pounding on the passenger side window. As soon as you roll down the window, he sticks his arm in and hurls his bag into the backseat. He then flicks the lock open before letting himself into your car.

As you look at him, you can’t help but notice the shades. A smug smile spreads across your face. “You still have those ass-ugly things I gave you?” you laugh.

“They’re ironic,” he replies defensively. “Besides, it’s obvious that you’re still fond of that stupid green jacket that Vriska sent you.”

“That is a completely different subject, Strider.” Your eyes flick towards him, and you can tell he’s smirking. “Might I remind you that this is my car, and that I can kick you out whenever or wherever the hell I feel like it?” you add jokingly.

“I doubt you’d actually do that, Egbert,” he laughs. His profile allows you to catch a rapid glimpse of the brilliant red eyes which normally hide behind his shades.

You don’t quite remember the rest of that argument. You do know, however, that it wandered off into the land of “makes-no-fucking-sense” pretty quickly. Although that wasn’t atypical for a Strider versus Egbert discussion, either. By the time you two finally finish arguing over petty matters, it’s nearly two in the morning.

“How the hell did you drive this long?” His statement, though half obscured by a loud yawn, jars you from your almost meditative focus. 

You shrug and squint against the glare of some inconsiderate jackass going the opposite way with his headlights on the brightest setting. You manage to swerve to the exit at the last second and, at the same time, you score a shocked yelp from Dave. “We’re almost there. Just about ten more minutes,” you announce nonchalantly.

“That’s assuming your shit driving doesn’t get us killed, Egbert,” Dave grumbles. You can tell that, despite the snappy comeback, he’s only half awake. In the flickering glow of the streetlamps lining the road, you can see that his eyes are closed.

After a few minutes, you find a familiar weed-covered chain link fence. Your gaze darts over to Dave before rolling to the ceiling as you realise that he’s fallen asleep. You reach across the centre console and pause for a moment. You were going to wake him up, though he seemed so… Oh shit. You CANNOT start thinking like that again. But you can’t help it. You gently run your fingers through his soft white hair. You barely even notice the contented grin that spreads across your face as you do so. In fact, you barely notice anything but him…

You see only him until the sound of a muffled voice registers in your mind.

“What the hell are you two love birds doing on my lawn?”

You withdraw your hand as quickly as possibly and scramble to get out of the car. “I told you I was coming, Karkat,” you grumbled. “Dave wanted to come along, too. So I kind of brought him with me…”

“Doesn’t matter. You two will probably be sharing a bed, anyhow.” Even in the darkness, you can see his shadowy form shrug and you’re fairly certain that he’s got a smug grin on his face.

“Shut up, Vant-ass,” you grumble. Despite the burst of energy which had led to you speed to his house just moments ago, you found yourself feeling rather sleepy and unable to think of anything snappier than the crap reply you’d offered. (Perhaps it was because the rush of that non-decaf coffee Dave had coerced you into buying had finally worn off…)

“Just wake the douchebag up and get him inside. I’ve already unpacked all your crap. You carry way too much stuff, by the way.”

It takes you a moment, but you finally realise what he’s implying. “We’ve only been in there for two minutes. You haven’t had time to—”

He cuts you off mid-sentence. “Actually, dumbass, you’ve kind of been stroking his hair for about ten minutes now. That’s more than enough time for me to get all of your shit inside. Now wake him up before I decide to just lock both of you out.”

Under normal circumstances, you would jump to defend yourself, but your sudden attack of sleepiness tells you to step down from the fight this one time. You nod and return to the driver’s seat to retrieve the keys. As you grab your keys, you reach over the console and shake Dave back into the land of the semi-awake.

Despite his obvious half-conscious state, he seems to recognise the need to get out of the car and follow you. With style and finesse that only Dave could ever wield, he swings open the door and gracefully takes one step out of the car before falling on his face.

You let forth a silent chuckle before helping him back up onto his feet and handing him back his shades.

“They’re ironic,” he grumbles instinctively.

“Of course they are,” you laugh quietly as you help the seemingly drunk Dave into the run-down house.

Once inside, you see two sleeping bags thrown haphazardly on the living room floor. Not surprisingly, Dave immediately shoves you aside and dives into the red bag (probably because it matches that damn suit he’s wearing). You hear the door lock behind you and turn around to thank Karkat for letting you in, only to see his shadow disappear around the corner. You take a mental note of the incident before gently nudging your sleeping bag closer to Dave’s and climbing in.

Even through the sleeping bags, you can feel Dave’s warmth. You can hear his steady breathing, and see how his white hair seemed to sway with the slightest of movements. You’re so comfortable… so warm… Your worries seem to leave you as you quickly begin to fall into a peaceful slumber. You barely notice as you wrap your arm around Dave and rest your head against his chest moments before you finally fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add my headcanon voice for Karkat, but I decided not to. In my head, Karkat sounds like a pissy dude with a Liverpool accent. I have no clue why.


	3. John: Be Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some awkward cuddling and a little taunting. This chapter's really short. Sorry.

Your name is Dave Strider. You’re just waking up on the floor of Karkat’s living room. As your eyes adjust to the light, you realise that you’re nose-to-nose with John. You suppress the squeal of excitement you want to release, mainly because it would be uncool to do so (and you’d wake up John, but that was only a minor issue). 

You do, however, allow yourself a contented smile as you carefully wrap your free arm around him. Other than that, however, you don’t move. You don’t move because you know that, as soon as he wakes up, it would all be over.

You don’t move because you want the moment to last forever.

You cling to each second and savour each warm breath against your skin. You revel in the thrill of having him in your arms and, at the same time, being in his. If your timetables were real, you’d probably be using them to slow time down as much as possible. Unfortunately for you, the timetables aren’t real. Even less fortunate is the fact that you suddenly find yourself staring into John’s vivid blue eyes (though it’s worth noting that you’d thoroughly appreciate this under different circumstances). Before he can fully wake up, you begin looking around for ammo. There is not way you’re going to be caught snuggling with Mister “Not-A-Homosexual” Egbert. That would totally ruin your status as the best honorary Egbert bro.

After a few seconds of looking around, you spot a familiar furry object. You immediately remove release your grip on John as you snatch up that ass-ugly brown shit thing that was supposedly a bunny. At that point, you figure that it’s a perfect time to start your typical game of friendly mockery. “Nice cuddling, Egbert,” you say dryly. You make sure to keep any indication that you were absolutely fucking thrilled about said snuggling out of your voice or actions.

John’s eyes widen in shock as he swiftly removes his arm from you and scoots away. “Fuck. I don’t even know how that happened.” He fumbles around for a bit before he finally finds his glasses and haphazardly puts them on.

“As for your thing about my shades,” you continue, “I think a better question would be… Why the fuck do you still have this ugly old rag?” You force a smirk onto your face as you dangle the toy by its left ear in front of John’s face. Really, you’re kind of flattered – okay… _pretty damn flattered_ – that John still had that thing. Sure, you thought it was uglier than the pink house across from his, but you couldn’t help but feel proud that he cherished the piece of shit enough to still have it.

The taunt does the trick, and John lunges towards you. You sidestep his attack and throw the bunny back towards him. “Seriously, though, you still have that piece of shit?”

“You’re the one who gave it to me,” John replies defensively. 

“True,” you mumble. You had to admit defeat this time. More importantly, you have no desire to remind him that he sent you the shades (and not the fifty one or whatever number shades of crap that new book is). Reminding him that could potentially lead to all sorts of awkward. Instead, you steer the conversation in a completely different direction. “So… Where’s Karkrab?”

“How am I supposed to know?” John replies with a shrug. “I thought I heard the TV a little bit ago…”


	4. Dave: Be Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's mostly just alone time as Karkat. It's also what happens when my Homestuck music switches to the Titanic soundtrack halfway through the chapter. Whoops.

_Your_ name is Karkat Vantas. You refuse to be confused with those two boobs giggling like schoolgirls outside of your bedroom door. And, if anyone calls you by the name John or Dave, they shouldn’t be surprised when you kick them in the face.

ANYHOW, IGNORING YOUR RATHER RUDE MENTAL COMMENTS (AND ANY FORM OF A FOURTH WALL)… You glance curiously at your computer screen as the Sburb window finally opens. The game doesn’t appear, though. Instead, you’re faced with a pure black bar with monospaced white text: “Error ~ATH”. You sigh and run your fingers through your messy white hair before pulling out your phone and prepare to attempt running the game again.

You’re already not in a great mood, and the impending migraine doesn’t help that a bit. From behind your bedroom door you hear someone knocking and trying to talk to you. You automatically assume it’s John Eggpiss or Dave Strap-on (or whatever the fuck their names are) and ignore it completely. With your head beginning to feel like it’s about to explode and those two boobs being so fucking loud, you have no real motivation for staying inside your house. Instead, you quietly grab your coat and slip outside via the window on the eastern side of your bedroom.

From there, you wander down the street. You make sure not to pass in front of the windows of your house. After all, you’re pretty sure those assholes would just pull you right back inside if they happen to spot you. Your mind wanders off into the land of contemplation as you aimlessly meander about the area.

The game had only just crashed a few days ago. Actually, it crashed at the exact moment that Gamzee finally realised he still had an account and got rid of it. Perhaps Sollux’s theory was right. Maybe the game would only exist as long as its players were willing to partake in its absurdities.

Perhaps John Eggbitch was right about you needing to grow up a bit. Maybe you’re just too busy trying to make sure you’re at the top of some pack – any pack – that you’ve forgotten that there’s not really a pack to dominate anymore. Fuck, there’s not really a reason to dominate any pack any more…

You’re so lost in your musings that you barely notice that you’ve come full circle. You raise your blood red eyes up to your house, and watch as the lights in the window flicker on and off. Perhaps it’s time to actually fix up this dump, you think to yourself. You’d bought the house intending to fix it up. But your drive quickly dissolved in all the shit floating in your brain.

You debate going inside, but you’re not quite ready yet. Instead, you wander off to the shoddy old patch of dead grass that is the local park. You sit down on the swingset, exactly three seats to the right, and stare up at the sky. A sliver of moon stares back at you. You’ve been out far longer than you expected.

You should go back. Those two meatheads were still alone. More importantly, they were inside your motherfucking house. And who knows what the hell they could be doing. As you exit the park, you can’t help but notice a flyer advocating the sheer awesomeness of sopor stapled to the back of a wooden lamp post. A small smile makes its way across your face. As you pass it, you surreptitiously swipe it from its spot, leaving behind four light purple paper corners on the post. After all, you knew who it was putting them up, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind if you took just one.

The short walk back to your house somehow feels slightly less troublesome than the walk away from it. As you approach the house, you fold up the paper and stick it in your pocket. You then detour to the back of the house and slip back inside the window you used to sneak out. Then, as silently as possible, you slide the squeaky piece of plastic shit back shut.

You don’t bother to undress. Instead, you simply throw yourself into bed with your jeans and hooded sweatshirt still on. Outside of your room, you can hear the two twits talking and swapping banter outside of your door. You ignore it, though.

Tomorrow will be the day you do something worthwhile, you think…


	5. Karkat: Be John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed again, and it probably doesn't help that it's storming outside. Or maybe it does. You're not really sure...

You’re back to being John Egbert. You’ve woken up to the sound of rain and thunder mingling with that of Dave’s breathing. But you also hear another sound. It sounds like someone cooking something. But, of course, you know that that’s not right… right? Karkat and Dave are the only others in the house. Dave’s asleep, you’re on the floor, and Karkat was probably off doing some Karkat-ish shit, right?

You roll over and look towards the stove to confirm your thoughts. However, it seems that (SURPRISE!) you’re wrong. Strangely enough, Karkat seems to trying to cook. You emphasise TRYING, because that’s about all he was doing. He seems to be burning pretty much everything he puts onto the stove.

With as little sound as possible, you slide out of your sleeping bag and approach Karkat from behind. “I’m surprised the fire alarm hasn’t gone off yet,” you say with a smirk.

Karkat jumps at the sound of your voice. He turns around swiftly, his hands clutching the dented spatula as if it were some sort of weapon. When he notices you, however, he quickly relaxes. “Fuck you, you blithering pile of odourus trash,” he grumbles as he turns his attention back to something burned beyond all hope of recognition. (It looks like sausage, though you guess that a pile of ash could look like whatever the fuck you want it to.)

You shake your head in amused shock as you grab the pan of burnt whatever-the-fuck-it-was and dump the remains into the sink. “Just let me cook. You and Dave can’t make toast without burning the hell out of it,” you laugh. As you’re speaking, you busy yourself with rummaging through Karkat’s fridge. You’re frankly appalled by the unholy stockpile of horribly unhealthy shit inside. You wrinkle your nose at the smell of a fast-food meal that had probably been in there for at least a week. You never thought you’d say this, but you think Karkat deserves the title of having a fridge that could kill you faster than Dave’s. You pull out at least a pound of utter shit (including, for some unfathomable reason, several bags of potato chips… from the fucking fridge) and dump it into the largest rubbish bin you can find.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” Karkat practically screeches. “YOU CAN’T JUST THROW OUT ALL OF MY FOOD.”

The screech, not surprisingly, woke Dave from his slumber. As he sat up and slid on his shades, you notice a grin spreading across his face. “You should have hidden all of that before you let him in, really. He does this to everyone. Bro hates it.”

You can’t help but smirk at that comment as you pull out some lettuce, apples, and onions. Maybe there was some way you could salvage this meal… maybe…

“Look, Strider, you odius shitfucker. I don’t care what I should have done or what your Bro does or doesn’t like. And, Egbert, you are NOT making a fucking salad for breakfast, you feculent douchebag,” Karkat snaps as he snatches the large bowl you’d just located away from you. “I had breakfast ready, anyhow, and you threw it into the sink…”

You hear Dave’s voice coming from the direction of the sink. “Actually, this is mostly just rock…” he points out.

“SWEET ALMIGHT TAINTCHAFING FUCK!” Karkat roars at the top of his lungs (which was probably his normal volume, anyhow). “That’s it! I’m just ordering a pizza.” He grabs the phone and dials the number before you have a chance to react. You lunge for it again seconds later, but Dave pulls you back.

You look up at Dave and notice his cautionary glance. He was right (for once). It was probably best to let this one slide. But you sure as hell weren’t eating that shit. Before Karkat could hang up, you snatch the phone away from him and reqest a salad.

“You’re un-fucking-believable,” Karkat sneers.

You shrug off the insult and throw the supplies you’d pulled out back into the fridge.

That must have given him a one-way trip to pissy dick town, because he quickly releases a frustrated moan before letting forth a long string of incomprehensible insults and storming off. You hear the door slam shut moments later (and you swear you feel the floor shake, too). This whole string of events leaves you rather confused. You’re not quite sure what you did wrong. Of course, you did throw away all his shitty-ass food. But that was for his own good. Other than that, you didn’t do anything to piss him off… did you? You wonder if you should try and apologise and open your mouth to ask Dave.

By then, however, Dave already seems to know what you’re thinking (and, really, when the fuck doesn’t he?) and he makes sure to save you some talking by spitting out the answer before you ask. “I’ll go see what this fucker is so angry about. Just make sure you answer the door for the pizza dude.”

You nod obediently and sit down on the grease-stained sofa. This one time, you suppose you could let Dave handle it. After all, you had a feeling that you were the last person that Karkrab wanted to look at – much less talk to – at the moment… Dave would probably be far better for this, at least this time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next command should probably be "Dave: Have a huge identity crisis"...


	6. John: Be Dave (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Karkat try and have some bonding time, but it doesn't quite work out as planned. (You can blame Dave for all of this. Or Karkat. Whichever you prefer to blame.)

You’re once again Dave Strider. You have a creeping suspicion that your consciousness is being kicked around from person to person, and that a supposed fourth wall has just exploded into a brilliant shower of molten glass. You shove these irrelevant thoughts to the back of your mind, however, and quickly shuffle off after Karkat. You’re fairly certain that he’s in the backyard, though you’re not quite sure how to get there. After opening a few doors, you finally find the exit and, as soon as you step outside, you find him.

His back is turned to you as he stands in the rain and stares vacantly up at the sky. He doesn’t notice as you silently approach him.

You want to say something, but you can’t. Instead, you find yourself staring at his pale face. Your eyes move slowly, taking in everything you can before he notices you. You can’t help but notice how his near-white complexion clashes with the dark background and his black shirt. You’re just about to say something when his hand whips out and grabs you by the front of your shirt. He pulls you up so that your eyes meet his, and he readies himself for what will be (without a doubt) a spectacularly painful punch. You brace for an impact which, surprisingly enough, never occurs. Instead, he lets forth a heavy sigh and quickly sets you back on your feet before mumbling an apology which is swept away by the roar of the wind.

You’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to do. The air between you and him is weighted down by countless emotions and tension (and the fact that he almost tried to punch you into a coma). What were you supposed to say? Were you supposed to say anything? No! Of course not! You’re Dave Motherfucking (okay… maybe not _mother_ fucking) Strider. You had to think of a better way to do this. After all, you’ve progressed since you quit that shitty game. No, you needed to do something far more subtle, but just as affective.

Without thinking about what you’re actually doing, you reach out and put your hand on his shoulder. Beneath your palm you can feel the cold, damp fabric of his shirt.

He turns to look at you, and his blood red eyes meet yours. At that moment, you swear you were staring into a mirror. You don’t see his eyes. You view them as reflections of your own, which you so desperately try and hide behind dark glass… For a moment, you wrestle with your own inner turmoil before finally realising something. As you put your emotions to rest, you notice an opportunity to connect with him and, at that point, you do something completely uncharacteristic of you – you take off your wicked awesome shades.

His eyes seem to wide as he notices what you always try to hide.

You feel some of the tension slip away.You feel as if some sort of a bond – however slight – has formed between you two. You feel as if you’ve succeeded (at least for now). “So…” you attempt to say, only to be cut off by his voice.

“I guess you came out here to talk to me, you insufferable prick.” He’s whispering. You can hear how hoarse his voice is from his habitual screaming. Even so, there’s something smooth about the sound of it.

“I guess you could say that,” you reply nonchalantly. You try and focus on something other than him or his untamed white hair, but, no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop your gaze from darting towards.

“If that’s the case, then you can haul your denim-clad ass back into the house.” His words barely register in your mind. They’re filtered through a film of uncontrollable and inexplicable longing.

You watch as he runs his fingers through his wet white hair and force yourself to swallow. Fuck, you don’t need this… attractive… bastard… “Well if that’s your attitude, then you can do whatever the fucking hell you want!” you snap.

Despite your outburst, you notice that a smirk – a sickeningly adorable smirk – has crossed his face. “If I had a dollar for every time my ears had the displeasure of hearing that shitty phrase, I’d be pretty damned rich,” he grumbles. “By your short temper, I’m going to assume you’re the same way, you calamitous ass.”

You can only blink in shock at his reply. Yes, you’d known all of this. You knew you could be a douchbag the size of the entire fucking planet sometimes, but you weren’t used to someone (especially someone as big of a douchebag as you, and possibly even more) throwing it back in your face. You try and defend yourself, but it comes out as sputtered nonsense.

“Maybe you’re not all that bad, Strider.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and wanders over to to the small overhang outside the back door. You notice him motioning for you to follow, and you comply (if not only to hear what he has to say ). “As much as I hate to say it, especially to a vexatious bastard such as you, I think we’re a lot alike.”

By this point, you’re no longer caring about anything he says. Most of your attention is focused upon his pale lips and strangely alluring voice. You feel as if you’re about to explode from the sheer tension. All of a sudden, you find yourself reversing the roles from when you’d first approached him. Your hand gripped his shirt as you forcefully pulled him towards you. Only, instead of punching that smug grin off of his face, you find yourself locking lips with him.

Your eyes widen as much as his once you realise what the fuck you’re doing, and you quickly withdraw. You slip your shades back on with a shaky hand and refuse to meet his gaze.

“Just what I need,” he snarls. You can tell his face is red, possibly from shock or pleasure. “Of all the people that I could get, I get this galling goat shitting disk jockey . Well fuck you, you fallacious excuse for a human.”

He storms off in a loud huff, leaving you feeling that you’d probably just fucked shit up far more than John had…


	7. Dave: Make a lousy attempt to follow Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave really sucks at following people. On the other hand, it IS raining and storming, and the pizza's probably arrived, so...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. It looks like this fic is leaning more towards Dave/Karkat, so I've retagged it as such. Yeaaaah. Ignoring that fact... here's the update... I guess...

There’s absolutely no way you’re going back inside that house with Karkat. John had sent you out to try and talk things out, and you’d made that promise… kind of...

You stumble off after Karkat, your feet sinking slightly into the muddy earth with each step. Your gaze is locked on the ground, searching for any evidence of Karkat’s whereabouts. A trail of footsteps is faintly visible, and you begin to follow them. As you approach the road, however, you realise that the trail cuts off. You have no option but to go back inside.

“That didn’t work?” John asks as you trudge defeatedly back inside.

“Nope.” You slowly try and gauge John’s reaction. By his body language, he seems pretty relaxed, and his voice confirms this fact. You press on to other issues. “Did the food come?”

“Yeah, he did. And Karkat owes me twenty dollars now,” John replies with a grin.

Despite the fact that his joke was rather pitiful, you can’t help but laugh. You notice the unopened box of pizza sitting on the sofa and quickly rip it open. As soon as its greasy contents are revealed, you begin stuffing your face.

“How the hell do you eat that shit?” John asks in disgust.

“Says the guy eating salad when there’s pizza,” you reply with a smirk.

John sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

“And now you’re changing the topic, aren’t you? You are! You’re changing the topic!” you laugh.

“What makes you think that?”

“You always do this pitiful sigh and shrug before you change the topic.” You’d noticed that the first time you met him. It was one of his quirks. Another one was that his left eyebrow twitched slightly when he was lying (you’ve never told him about this one, though).

“Whatever, you douchebag.” He tries to act like you’ve insulted him, but he can’t seem to keep that stupid grin of his off his face. “I was just going to say that we should probably just let Karkat decide on his own when he’ll come back.”

“And what do we do until then?” you mumble through a mouth full of cheese, crust, and grease.

“I have movies.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t like Con Air anymore, because if you tried to make me watch Con Air, I would fucking punch you in the face.” You’re deadly serious about this. Damn, you love John, but there’s no fucking way you love that movie. You’d rather claw your eyes out with a smuppet than watch that thing.

John chuckles at your comment. “Don’t worry. I have better ones.”

You begin watching movie after movie with him and, eventually, you find yourself with your head against his shoulder. You’re dozing off, and so is he. Before you could think about anything else, you fall asleep.


	8. Dave: Be woken up by a cute (but annoying) idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to get this long. Oh sweet mother of Rassilon. Starting to wind this down a little. Karkat and Dave agree to be roommates and some stuff happens between John and Dave. I suck at summarising things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I should stop listening to Titanic while I write Homestuck fic...

“Wake up, you impudent ignoramus.”

You roll over and let forth a stifled moan.

“Dammit, you douchefondling imbecile.”

You sigh and open one eye. You’re slightly shocked by the fact that you’re no longer leaning on John’s shoulder, although this shock subsides as you recall a few moments (which apparently weren’t dreamt, as you had hoped) in which John gently nudged you awake to get you to lie down while he made some breakfast.

“You’re fucking pathetic. Wake up, you impossible prick!”

You groan again and sit up, rubbing your eyes before you put on your shades and glance up at Karkat. “I was trying to sleep, you fucking douchebag.”

“The best you can come up with is douchebag?” Karkat sneers. “You’re the most commiserable excuse for a human I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Did you just wake me up to insult me?” you mutter.

“No… I actually came to tell you that it’s almost noon,” Karkat says with a smirk.

“Fuck! I slept that late!?”

“Yes,” John laughs from the kitchen. 

You can tell he’s baking again. The smell of his suspiciously delicious ‘healthy cake’ (which, at least in your opinion, a completely impossible thing) hits your nostrils, and you feel your mouth beginning to water. John was probably the only person whose healthy food you’d be willing to eat.

A few moments later, he sets a steaming hot masterpiece of cuisine on the table. You immediately shove Karkat out of the way and claim your five-inch-thick piece of the cake (literally).

Your gorging is interrupted, however, by Karkat’s voice.

“So… Hey… Um… Strider?” he mumbles timidly.

“What?” you spit through your mouthful of food.

“I was thinking about moving out of here… So… um…”

You look up at Karkat. His eyes are as wide as saucers (well, obviously, not literally) and he’s nervously tapping his fingers on the table.

The silence lingers for several minutes. All you can hear is the tapping of his fingers and John washing the dishes. Finally, Karkat manages to force himself to finish his sentence. “So… I was thinking that… At least for a while… Maybe I could move in with you?”

You raise your brow in both shock and confusion. How the fuck had he gone from calling you a douchefondle (two words which you’d never seen a sane person combine) to wanting to stay at your house!? You look up at him, trying to see if he was joking. From his body language, however, you can tell that he’s not pulling your leg. “I guess so.” You force yourself to reply in a calm and cool manner. “How long will it take you to get packed?”

Karkat shrugs. “Probably a day or two. I’m not taking all of this eye-melting shit with me.” A small grin flashes across his face for a moment, but quickly vanishes. “And I probably won’t be staying with you for long, anyhow, you nonsensical dumbass.”

“Of course not,” you reply smugly. Across the room, in the kitchen, you can see John doing his derpy little victory pose. However, you quickly return your attention to Karkat.

You notice another smile flicker onto his face. This one, however, is stifled by a bite of John’s food. “What the fuck is this repugnant shit!?” he coughs. He spits a mouthful of the food onto his plate and shoves it away with a glower. “This tastes like a piss-stain on the pants of the most reprehensible fucking douchebag on the planet!”

“If you don’t like it, give it to me,” you interject with a smirk. Before he can answer, you reach across the table and snatch his plate from him.

You finish Karkat’s plate in a matter of seconds, and then return to yours. The five inch slice turns to crumbs, and you drop your knife and fork to begin licking the plate. Once you’re finished polishing the plate with your tongue, you look up to where Karkat had been standing. By this point, however, he seems to have gone off to his room.

You shove your plate aside with a shrug and wander over towards the television (all the while ignoring John’s typical “you never clean up after yourself, you lazy ass” complaint). For at least ten minutes, you flick through the channels.

Eventually, John sits down next to you and wrestles the remote from your grip. You two never had and never _will_ have the same taste in television shows. Using his newly-stolen remote, he scrolls through the channels before finally picking some shitty movie.

About halfway through the film, just as you’re about to leave, he smirks and leans up against you. And, _somehow_ , you end up on top of him. Your lips are pressed against his, and your fingers are entangled in his hair. You can smell that stupid cologne that he uses (which you’re pretty sure he just took from his dad), and you can feel his skin against yours.

Your glasses fall onto his face, only to be brushed away by his long fingers. Soon after that, he tosses his own glasses aside. You gaze into his vivd blue eyes and grin. He smiles back…

Eventually, things settle down. Your shirt is drenched in his sweat, and his in yours. Another shitty movie is playing in the background, but you could care less. For now, all you can do is nestle yourself against his warm body and let his hand calmly stroke your shoulder. You do, however, have to wonder what Karkat would think. Well… At least he was still in your room. And, after that suggestion that you and him split Terezi, you were sure he wouldn’t mind…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a firm believer in the "less is more" policy for sex and whatever. Some people can pull off in-depth sex scenes. I'm one of those people that prefers to leave it up to the reader. So feel free to fantasize your hearts out of your eye sockets. ~~Constructive criticism and/or ego stroking is appreciated.~~


	9. Dave and Karkat: Go home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping all of this up. Dave goes back to his house and Karkat moves in. Contains not-all-that-explicit cuddling/some mostly implied sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if this constitutes this entire thing be rated "M" or not. I just did it to be safe. Oh well. I totally wasn't listening to the Professor Layton soundtracks while writing this last update...

You wake up the next morning to the sound of silence. Your eyes open slowly and you curiously gaze around the room. All of John’s shit is gone, as is John. While you understand that he had to get back to work, you’re still quite offended that he didn’t even bother to tell you goodbye. Your annoyance with him subsides, however, as the smell of his cake hits your nose.

As you get up and make your way to the cake, you notice that the room is far tidier than it had been the night before. Upon reaching the table, you notice Karkat sitting across from you. 

His feet are crossed and sitting atop the table, and (oddly enough) a wide grin is spread across his face. Unlike usual, he seems to have put some effort into getting ready today. His hair is slightly neater than usual (which, really, isn’t saying much) and he has something that’s not a hole-ridden tee shirt on. You can tell by the look on his face that’s he’s pretty much ready to leave. And, if you’re going to be honest with yourself, you’re just about as ready as he is…

**¤••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••¤**

Ten days have passed since you and Karkat settled into the routine of living together. As the boss of the radio station, you’ve also secured Karkat a job as your co-host for your noon talkshow and as the main host of your evening phone-in sessions.

Both you and him enter the house after a long day of work. He immediately drops into the bed, and you ~~brainwash~~ convince John to talk you through the preparation of a nice meal (namely his mouth-watering lamb). After a surprisingly good job in the kitchen, you carefully arrange two plates.

You carry both of the frighteningly delicious-looking dishes into the bedroom. You sit down on the bed and hand the other dish to Karkat. Both of you devour the entire meal. Afterwards, Karkat offers to do the dishes. However, considering the fact that he’s already broken five of your Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff glasses in the ten days he’s been living with you, and the fact that you’re in an undeinably lascivious mood, you simply grab the plates and shove them off to the side.

As he stares at you in shock, you shove him against the large disk-shaped pillow he was leaning against and interlock your lips with his. After a brief moment of shock, he returns the favour. A rare grin flashes briefly across his pale face, and he carefully wraps his arm around you. 

You make some odd comment about him being too shy or whatever, though you don’t care enough to really think about what you said. For the first time in however long you’ve known him, he laughs. You run the fingers of one hand through his hair while skillfully unbuttoning his top with the other. Once his chest is exposed, you begin to slowly work your way down to the prize. Your lips meet his skin more times than you can count, and your nose is filled with the irresistible scent of his chypre cologne.

It’s over within minutes, Karkat stifling moan as you swallow the warm, salty fluid you hold in your mouth; and, eventually, you find yourself with your forehead against his chest. You close your eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing soothe you to sleep; and, just before you drift off, you feel his fingers run through your hair and hear his husky voice whisper in your ear. “I love you, you douchebag.” He gives you an awkward but well-intentioned kiss on the cheek, and you nod off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of an idea I had where all the kids and trolls had matured and moved away from SBURB after finding their ideal position in "real" life... except for Karkat, of course. Karkat, at least according to my idea, had remained on SBURB alone. I attribute this mainly due to his huge array of insecurities which plagued him and blah blah blah. This is probably really cliché. Feel free to add constructive criticism.


End file.
